The Wordprexodus continues apace. We have your Ivan, your Cheri, your Lovely Amphibian and your mataachi too. We know that Joshi is there somewhere, but I can't find him. Once I do, I will let you know. We are working on Minty and Ish for now. Then we will come for the rest of you.
We are the Borg. Resistance is futile
One last link: Grey's Anatomy is not just for women. Apparently even men can watch it, or so says this story on MSNBC.com… Are you convinced? That show needs Jack to come on and shoot somebody.
Nerd's Eye View
The Worm had mixed feelings about Isaac's offer. The first feeling in the concoction was outrage: he was not in senior four anymore and therefore did not see why he should be expected to wear borrowed clothes. He expressed this feeling with sardonic curtness. "Are we going to Namagunga for social?"
The second feeling was hurt pride, because Isaac's fashion sense and the Worm's principles found themselves at odds in some places. "I don't wear no fucking Sean John!"
The third feeling was more to our liking, though less to our understanding. The Worm had to be in the studio to present the weekend radio show for the Sunday DJ who, once again, wasn't feeling well. They had called him with this assignment while I was in town, and he was less perturbed by the call to work on a weekend than he was by the prospect of showing up in pyjamas. Isaac's offer seemed to show a way out. We gave him that special glance people give to radio presenters who worry about how they are going to look on air, and he deftly ignored it. Instead he agreed to go off to Isaac's and get some clothes.
After we were fully clad (or at least some of us. I was still in my shorts) and were heading for the setting of Isaac's programme, he began to unfold its details.
"You two guys are Congolese," he announced.
I had an objection to having my Ugandan citizenship so abruptly abrogated, and requested an explanation as to why.
"And you don't know very much English, so don't use words like abrogate," Isaac replied.
I insisted on the questioning tack. "Why am I Congolese?"
"I need two Congolese guys," Isaac said.
"Then perhaps you should have gone to the Congo
Isaac looked exasperated. "I don't mean like real Congolese guys, like Kabila and Wamba Dia Wamba. I just need two guys to pretend to be from the Congo Congo
"I don't know if I can do that. I haven't spent a lot of time in the Congo
"Do they have deep voices like this: (Worm lowered his voice to a frog-like bass) 'je suis le Congolese.' Or do they have high voices like (and he switched to a high pitch) 'Alors! Vive la revolucione' "
"Exactly the question. I mean, take Kofi Olumide for instance. His voice, though gay, is quite deep. On the other hand, Arulus Mabele has a grotesquely squeaky voice. Which is it supposed to be?" I pushed the question.
Worm jumped on that point with deep concern. "I think it's more like Mabele's. First of all, most Lingala songs are sung in that squeaky register, and secondly, I don't trust Kofi Olumide. Kofi Olumide sounds like a West African name."
"They make Lingala in West Africa ?"
"He may be just pretending to be Congolese, too."
Isaac crashed in on our discussion. "Look, you don't have to talk, deep or squeaky. All you have to do is stand there, not speak English, and most importantly, not dispute the fact when I say you are two associates of mine from the Congo
"Okay," I found it reassuring that the brief wasn't going to be as demanding as I had previously supposed. "So we just stand there and nod. Any particular posture?"
"Where is Kofi Olumide from then, and why is he trying to deceive us that he is from the Congo
"He is from Mali
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